Thursday, November 6, 2008

The Fallen Angel

They left me,
but still,
I am remembered.
.
May I draw?
May I think?
May I write?
May I love?
You may.
.
So, I throw my pen,
I take my pencil.
So, what may I do now?
.
May I draw?
May I think?
May I write?
May I love?
You may.
.
What to do?
My freedom is given,
and freedom itself is locking me inside him.
.
So I free my freedom.
May I draw?
No, you may not.
.
Then, I started to draw.

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